


Past Into Future

by MissMeggo



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Family Secrets, Mass Effect Big Bang, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMeggo/pseuds/MissMeggo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Confined to the Alliance brig after her actions on Aratoht, Shepard comes face to face with information about her past that may change her future forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Into Future

“Commander?”

Amelia Shepard turned from her position overlooking the galaxy map.  Miranda stood hesitantly at the threshold of the elevator, a datapad in hand. She cocked her head at the other woman, motioning her forward.  The two stood together in silence for a few moments before the ex-Cerberus officer wordlessly handed her the pad.

“EDI, the Shadow Broker, and I complied a list of reading material you might find interesting while assisting the Alliance in Vancouver.”

Amelia’s laugh was bitter.  “Not sure how much assistance I can be from the brig.”

“Liara’s handled that matter.  You’ve been given leave to bring limited personal effects, provided they contain nothing suspicious.  I think you’ll find the literature we’ve included enlightening.  Especially the part in chapter twelve, paragraph three.”  Miranda turned to go, only to pause.  “I’m sorry Shepard, for the things we’ve asked you to do.  And we’ll continue to ask you to do.”

Amelia nodded once and turned back to the blank map, barely registering as the other woman made her way across the CIC towards the bridge.  Miranda was the last of her crew to leave, only she, Joker, and Karin would make the long journey back to Earth.  It felt strange to have the ship so empty, devoid of the nameless energy that usually hummed alongside the engines.  It was sad, she thought, making her way back up to her lonely quarters.  The datapad was tossed into her bag and promptly forgotten.

Admirals Hackett and Anderson stood waiting for her at the airlock doors, both somber faced.  Her single bag was handed off to waiting hands as a small regiment of soldiers waited along the airlock.

“Are they here to protect me from the hordes or protect the hordes from me?” she questioned idly, a twisted sense of pleasure coursing through her when Hackett’s brow furrowed minutely.  

“Officially you’re under arrest Shepard.  The only thing keeping you from cuffs is your Spectre status.”

“I wondered if you’d forgotten about that.  Aren’t I supposed to be untouchable?”

“Enough Amelia.”  David’s voice was laced with irritation, but she couldn’t decide if it was aimed at her or the situation she now faced.  Wisely, she dropped the subject with a roll of the eye, falling into step behind Hackett, David at her side, the rest of the marines taking positions around them.  Back straight and head high, Amelia prepared herself for the masses she instinctively knew waited past the docking bay doors.

It was a surreal mix.  Terra Firma members stood off to one side cheering at her, yelling out words of praise at her actions in Aratoht and encouragement for her trial.  The media formed another small band, questioned yelled so loudly over each other she could hardly make out the words.  Still others stood in silent awe as humanity’s first Spectre walked past them to the waiting skycars.  David’s hand settled on her upper arm.  To those watching it must have seemed authorative, but to her it was a comfort, a way to keep her grounded in the sea of bodies.

The trip to Alliance headquarters passed remarkably quickly, even with the uncomfortable silence.  Amelia was quickly whisked into the building, not towards the brig, but a set of well appointed rooms.  Anderson followed behind, Hackett lost to other responsibilities almost immediately after their return. 

“I figured you had a nice cell in the brig waiting for me.”

“We could arrange that if you’d prefer.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”  She grinned at her superior.  “Remember Florence?”  

“The rooms are all monitored by either a VI or officer,” David warned.  “I wouldn’t suggest you pull a move like that here.  Tomorrow we’ll introduce you to the marine who you’ve been assigned.”

“I’m thrilled to meet him.”  She reached for her bag, slinging it over a shoulder.  “So am I going to be able to change in peace or will every moment of my life be monitored from here on out?  Because let me tell you, I just left that situation and I’m not jumping for joy at repeating it.” 

“Will you be serious for just a second Amelia?  The situation you’re in is precarious at best.  An Alliance officer disappearing for two years and reappearing in Cerberus colors?”

Any pretense of humor fled as she rounded on her superior.  “That didn’t stop the Alliance from sending me errands to do.  Let’s both be honest here David.  I’m doing what a good Alliance soldier does and jumps when I’m told.  We both know that I didn’t have to.  My Spectre status trumps my pre-death status as a Commander.  This is a show, pure and simple.  The Alliance wants to pin Arahot on someone and I’m the right person to do it.”

Amelia let out a low, dark chuckle, devoid of humor.  “Funny thing is though, no matter how many meetings and inquiries you make me sit through?  I already carry the burden with me.  I made the choice and I have to live with it, whatever a bunch of Admirals decide.”    

Outburst over, she tightened her hold on the bag she carried and sent Anderson a tight smile.  “If that’s all, I’m going to try and sleep now.”

Grim faced he nodded once.  “We’ll see you in the morning Shepard.”

The next few weeks passed in a blur of inquiries, meetings, and questioning.  James Vega, her Alliance appointed marine watchdog slash bodyguard would show at her door each morning, escort her to the meeting of the day, and arrive back in time to escort her back to the apartment she was calling home.  Every few days he’d have a bag of fresh food, the only surprising upside to being incarcerated.  No more vat grown foods or questionable ration packs.    

Not even decent food or questioning that went for insufferably long hours could keep the boredom at bay though.  Used to the constant scurrying of a ship, the quiet moments of  _ nothing _ were quickly becoming unbearable.  It wasn’t until almost three weeks in she remembered the forgotten datapad.  Only the mention of Miranda Lawson during one of her debriefs that day reminded her of their conversation in the CIC.    

Amelia had left everything she brought with tucked into her bag outside of the civvies she wore during her downtime.  The contents had been shifted around, sorted through as Alliance brass checked them over for communication devices or Cerberus bugs.  It took only moments of rummaging to find the pad and switch it on.  

A gentle buzz was the first clue that this was no standard datapad.  The screen loaded, not to a main page, but to a novel written by a popular asari matron. Amelia scanned through the pages to Chapter 12, skimming the first few lines until one gave her pause.   _ Don’t forget my child, if you are lost the Glyph will guide your way. _  Following her impulse, she skimmed a finger over the word Glyph and bit back a laugh when the novel faded and an imagine of glow blue mech appeared.

_ Glyph:  Good Evening.  Visual and biometric data matches one Shepard, Amelia Grace.  Please wait. _

The screen imagines seemed to melt as a second, lighter colored menu screen populated, a Glyph imagine in the corner.

_ Glyph:  Welcome to the Shadow Broker’s secure datapad.  Please proceed to the welcome message for further instructions and details.  _

Amelia tapped the lightly glowing icon, not completely sure what to expect.  The pad thrummed lightly in her hands as a new screen populated.

_ Amelia, _

_ While doing a preliminary search through the Shadow Broker’s files, I uncovered multiple heavily encrypted documents pertaining to you.  Glyph, EDI, Miss Lawson and I have spent the past few months checking the veracity of what we have uncovered.  There was some initial dissent as to whether we should share this, given your current situation, but rational minds prevailed. _

_ Please also know that there is an encrypted messaging program on this device that should not be traceable by any Alliance technologies, but I would hesitate to use it except in extreme need.  I’ve also taken the liberty of placing multiple bug out bags in various locations throughout Vancouver.  Their locations are listed below.  Accessing any of these will trigger an alert and I will contact you regarding extraction needs. _

_ Please also know this datapad will automatically revert to one that contains only novels if not held directly in your hands.  The novel containing the link to Glyph will no longer auto populate, but you will have to manually search for it.  These safety measures should keep sensitive materials limited to your eyes only. _

_ ~Liara _

 

“What the hell,” she muttered to herself.  What could they have uncovered that required that much secrecy?  The raid on Mindoir when she was a teen was public knowledge.  The press and admiralty board alike had brought it up enough during her trial as motivation for destroying the relay in batarian space.  Curiosity, and a little dread, had her closing out of Liara’s message and opening the first document in a series.

 

_ To: The Illusive Man _

_ From: Dr. J Hanson _

_ Re: Project AK2546 _

_ Sir- _

_ Preliminary reports from Akuze have been promising.  We were able to collect biological and geological samples after the Alliance left.  It is unfortunate we were unable to arrive before them as I understand there was a single surviving member of the platoon.  Luck is on our side however.  We have an agent within the hospital they are taking her to recover at.  With your permission I will contact them and acquire any pertinent data. _

_ We did, however, find one anomaly groundside.  The alliance left the site barely untouched, which works to our benefit.  One recovered blood sample pinged back as having a connection to Cerberus, but when I went to compare samples, the information was at a restriction above my level, or anyone else tied to the project.  I’m unsure how you would like us to proceed in handling the matter.   _

_ Attached you’ll find an overview of our preliminary findings.  _

_ Regards, _

_ Dr. Hanson _

 

_ To: The Illusive Man _

_ From: Dr. J Hanson _

_ Re: Project AK2546 Update _

 

_ Sir- _

_ Our contact in the Alliance hospital was able to get a viable DNA sample from the Akuze survivor.  It matches the blood sample that pinged back as having Cerberus ties.  Per your request, we re-tested the DNA sample submitted against the one you provided.  The match is clearly familial along the father’s side.  We are in the process of finding the survivor’s birth certificate, but have had a surprisingly difficult time.  When the information arrives, we will inform you.   _

_ Also per your request, we have begun a new project.  Project AGS8467 will follow through with this, while AK2546 continues to look deeper into the results of our experiments in Akuze. _

_ Regards, _

_Dr. Hanson_

 

Stunned, Amelia set aside the datapad, only two files in.  It didn’t make sense, she thought.  Noah Shepard had been a diehard Alliance marine.  The only thing keeping him from advancing even farther through the ranks then he did was her and Mom.  Dad had left the Alliance around her eighth birthday, opting to move to Mindoir to be closer to them.  There was no way he would have been a Cerberus member, especially one that needed apparently ridiculous levels of clearance to access.  There had to be some mistake.  

The gentle chiming of her doors opening had her checking the datapad, which had reverted to the beginning of a novel, one Amelia had read repeatedly.  Liara would have known that and added it.  Vega’s head appeared around the open door to her room.

“Commander.”

“I’ve told you it’s Amelia.  We both know I’ve been stripped of rank.”

The bulky marine shrugged off her words, tossing a bundle of clothes at her.  “The title fits you.  Get changed.  As of half an hour ago you have clearance to use the gym facilities.  We have time booked in 30.”

A smile spread across her face.  She had done her best with exercising in the room.  Yoga and stationary calisthenics could only do so much though.  “Lieutenant Vega has anyone told you you’re an amazing human being?”

A blush stained his cheeks.  “Whatever.  Get changed and we’ll go.”

Amelia bit back her bubbling laugh as he fled the room.  She found it adorable how easy the normally joking, self confident marine would blush at even the mildest of flirting.  It was sweet, something her jaded personality hadn’t seen in a very long time.  It didn’t take long to change from street clothes into well fitting gym clothes.  She toyed with the idea of reading more on the pad, eventually deciding against it.  It wouldn’t do anyone any favors if the information was found.  It could wait, Amelia told herself firmly.  She knew the truth about her father.  Nothing Cerberus could say would change that.    

It wasn’t until the following weekend that she had a chance to continue her reading.  The committees had stepped up their questioning, the days stretching to twelve hours or more.  Amelia knew they were trying to exhaust her, hoping she may trip up.  It backfired on them though.  Between the N program and years spent on the front lines, it would take more than rapid fire questioning to wear her down.  She was incredibly stubborn when she wanted to be.

She had her dad to thank for that.

It was quiet that Saturday.  After an early morning jog and weight session with her favorite marine guard dog, Amelia found herself blessedly alone with the day and her datapad from Liara and Miranda.  She queued up the next file, noting there was nearly a month difference in timestamps between emails.     

_ To: The Illusive Man _

_ From: Christa Scott _

_ Re: Project AGS8467 Update _

_ Good Morning Sir, _

_ Per Dr. Hanson’s request, I am now the project lead, seeing as this is no longer a medically based case.  Our agents have managed to locate the birth records for the Akuze survivor.  Your initial suspicions were correct.  Her original birth certificate had been altered to add a Noah Shepard as her father.  Original documents show the line was left blank.  I must admit the alternation was done quite well.  I’m not surprised it didn’t send up any red flags with the Alliance.  Given her guardian post Mindoir, I would assume they had something to do with it. _

_ Per your request, I’ve attached backgrounds for both Hannah and Noah Shepard. _

_ Please let me know how you’d like us to progress, _

_  C. Scott _

 

Stunned, Amelia began skimming the documents included with the message.  She knew her mother had briefly been an Alliance marine, but Hannah Shepard had steadfastly refused to discuss why she had left.  Thirty years later, now she knew.  Her mother, then Hannah Birch had gone on a six month, remote mission with three high ranking officers and returned two months pregnant.  Hannah had refused to name the father and had quietly been discharged, only her family’s ties within the Alliance keeping her from being court marshalled. 

Three weeks after discharge she was on a transport to Mindoir, name no longer listed as Hannah Birch, but Hannah Shepard.  Six years later Noah Shepard joined them on the remote colony.  A marriage certificate between the two had been filed a month later.

Numb, she set the datapad aside.  Noah Shepard was not her biological father.  

It made no sense.  Amelia could remember the holo chats from when she was younger.  She always called the man “Da”.  He sent presents and messages, all addressed as her dad.  It had been a lie that both Noah and Hannah had let her believe and now they were gone.  Killed by batarians who wanted nothing but to destroyed a small colony and take slaves.  She could never ask them why they hid the truth from her.

But there was one person she could ask.  Gideon McDaniels had been a longtime friend of the Shepard’s and Amelia had grown up calling him uncle.  After Mindoir, she had gone to live with him.  A security and tech expert, Gideon would most likely have been the one to change her birth certificate and send Hannah to a remote colony under a different name.  The trick was, she knew, was two fold.  First she needed her uncle to be allowed a visit, something the Alliance council continued to deny.  The second, was figuring out how to bypass the bugs and surveillance that were bound to be around.

She needed a professional at espionage.  Good thing the Shadow Broker happened to be only a short message away.

Monday found her comfortably ensconced on her couch, inwardly preening as the Alliance tech tried to figure out just how she broke both their doors and VI.  They really shouldn’t have left her in an apartment so close to control panels, especially when the panels were conveniently hidden from surveillance in a closet.  Amelia figured it was the fastest way to get Hackett or Anderson’s attention.  It wasn’t until she heard the irate voice of Admiral Hackett drift through the vents that Amelia relented and let the VI unlock her doors.

Her stormy faced superior burst through the moment the doors slid apart.

“What in the hell are you doing Shepard?”

She set the paperback down and tilted her head, looking up at the man towering over her.  “I wanted to talk, but seeing as you and the council have been less than cooperative, I used what leverage I have.”    

“This is a trial Amelia, not a negotiation.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Admiral.  I’m well aware that this is a dog and pony show while you all decide who to blame for what.  I’ve been cooperative for the past six weeks.  Now you’ll cooperate with me.  I want to see my Uncle.”   
“Absolutely not.”

She shrugged.  “Then I stay here until you physically drag me to the council.  Or the brig.”

“You think I wouldn’t?”

“Oh, I’m well aware you would.”  She shrugged as if unconcerned.  “We both know I’ve survived worse.”  She hadn’t planned for the almost sad tone her voice took.  

Steven paced the room, muttering to himself under his breath.  Amelia waited quietly while he typed away furiously on his omni tool.  She knew when to push and when to sit back, walking the fine line of abrasive and charming.

“You have one hour tomorrow at 9 a.m.  Afterwards you will face the board about your actions today.”   

“Just another thing to answer for right?”  She paused, then huffed out a laugh.  “Ever regret putting me forward Steven?”

“I really don’t Amelia.  You can be a pain in the ass, but there’s no one better.”

“I can think of a few.”

“I want you to listen to me, real well because I will not repeat this.”  He waited until she met his eyes.  “I met you when you were a traumatized sixteen year old who watched friends and family brutally murdered, yet you didn’t collapse under that weight.  You could have and no one would have blamed you.  Four years later I was given the opportunity to watch you on the field and, while you’re a mouthy marine who doesn’t always follow command, you care.  One day I’ll have David show you your assessments.  We didn’t need a yes man for the Spectre program.  We needed someone who could think and act in an instant, but one we knew could make the tough decisions.  You’ve been doing that since you were a teen, so no there’s no one else we could’ve put forward at that time.  Time and again you’ve proven we’ve made the right choice, as aggravating as you can be.”

Amelia stared up at him, face a blank mask as she processed what he said.  Hackett had always seemed a distantly cool figure to her, not someone who had taken any sort of vested interest in her.  She had assume that Anderson, her longtime mentor, had pushed her name forward for the N program and Spectre status.  Her world view had been knocked askew for the second time in as many days.  It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed.  

She bit her lower lip lightly before nodding at her superior.  “I appreciate it sir.”

“Things aren’t going to get any easier from here,” he warned and, for once she knew they weren’t talking about the admiralty board. 

“I’m aware.”

“Tomorrow Shepard.  You better be prepared,” he warned once last time before stepping out into the hallway.  Before the door slid shut, Vega slipped in, wide eyed.

“You’ve got balls Commander.  I’ll give you that.”

A genuine bubble of laughter worked through Amelia.  “Maybe they’ll remember I enjoy mucking around with electronics after this.  Not my fault they left me bored with access to way too many things.”  She patted the couch cushion next to her.  “Take a load off Vega.  No meetings, no hearings, no visitors.  We can spend the day doing whatever we want.” 

Her face quirked in amusement as the wisecracking marine all of a sudden went beet red, mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t quite say what he was thinking.  It was then that she realized how her comment may have been perceived.  She huffed out a silent laugh.  “Ease up marine.  I’m not into voyeurism.”  She motioned towards the discreet camera recording her every move before sobering a bit. 

“I want a day to feel normal,” she admitted reluctantly.  Sharing wasn’t in her nature, especially to someone she knew so little about, but there was something about the man that had her opening up.  “So just sit your ass down.  There’s food in the fridge and a biotiball game on somewhere.  Only thing that’s missing is a few beers and I doubt they’ll bring those in for me.”

Vega’s mouth snapped shut as he nodded once in understanding.  Amelia sunk deeper into the couch, propping her feet up on table in front of her as she flipped on the television.

It would be nice to feel normal, if only for an afternoon.

The next morning had her pacing the floor of her apartment as she gave into the unusual bout of nervousness she felt.  At 0900 on the dot slid open, her uncle stepping over the threshold.  Not caring about those watching the surveillance feed, Amelia flung herself into his arms.  

Gideon Malone had been a constant in her life for as long as she could remember.  A long time friend of the family, she grew up getting packages and goodies from her “uncle” back on Earth.  When Mindoir was destroyed, he opened his home, and life, to her without hesitation.  If the batarians had taken her biological family, Gideon had done his best to give her a family of choice.  

Strong hands soothed down her back, a familiar gesture borne after countless nights of nightmares.  Amelia relaxed fully into him for a moment before pulling away.

“I missed you.  So much.”

“I missed you too Mia girl.”  Gideon made a show of straightening his tie and the ornate cuff links.  The emblem on them was small, but Amelia recognized it as one of Liara’s prothean carvings.  She nodded at them, an eyebrow raised.

“They were sent to me with a rather cryptic note.  Do you have something you need to tell me?”

Her grin was sharp.  Liara had come through in the best way, as only the Shadow Broker could.  Somewhere in the bowels of her ship, she had an advanced piece of technology that could alter recorded speech patterns.  Her techs managed to implant it in an innocuous pair of cufflinks.  “Something to tell, something to ask, something I’d rather keep between us.”  

She poked her finger against his chest.  “I’d suggest not trying to figure the mechanics out.  My friend’s a bit protective of their tech.  It wouldn’t surprise me if it self destructs after you leave the building.  Or the minute you try and crack the case.”

“You think I can recruit this friend of yours?”

“I really really doubt it.  You don’t pay enough.”

“For this tech I would.”

Amelia shook her head with a laugh.  Some things never changed, especially with her Uncle’s obsession with gadgets.  “This isn’t just a social visit.  I needed to talk to you about something.”   

“I gathered.  Should we be sitting?”

Wordlessly she nodded, gesturing towards the small dinette table in her kitchen.  Her earlier nerves had translated into a carafe of coffee and juice and a simple breakfast spread.  The two made small talk as they loaded plates and cups and took a few bites.  

Amelia’s fork tapped against the side of her plate until she finally gave in and set the utensil down.  Fingers twitching, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.  “I’ve been doing some reading,” she began.  “Some files a few of my more...tenacious colleagues dug up.”

“What sort of files?”

“E-mails mostly.  A few vids I haven’t gotten to yet.”  She paused and took a fortifying breath, eyes on the table.  “A forged birth certificate.”

Gideon seemed to freeze.  She heard him let out a deep breath.  “Mia girl, look at me.”

Reluctantly she met his gaze.  “Noah Shepard has been your father since before you were born.  Do you understand me?”

“But why?”  She hated how her voice cracked, how tiny it sounded.

Gideon sighed.  “I don’t know everything, but I’ll tell you what I can.”  He paused, gathering his thoughts.  “Noah sent me an urgent message at the beginning of a three week shore leave six months before you were born.  He asked for a favor, to send your mother out to one of the colonies we were providing security for with a new name and identity.  All he told me was Hannah was pregnant and needed to get away from Earth.  I brought her in, interviewed her, and set her up on Mindoir.”

His fingers tapped on the table briefly before he leaned in.  “You get your tech brain from her you know.”

Her smile was sad.  “I’m aware, but I still don’t understand why.”

“Hannah never talked about your biological father.  I’m not sure Noah even knew who he was, but he respected that.  But the two of them Mia girl...they were meant to be.  You would think the sun rose and set with you and your mother.  We all knew after meeting her his life had a new focus.  Then there was you.  You called him Da from the moment you could talk and you were his daughter.  So when he left the Alliance to work for me, I sent him to be with you two.  So I did what seemed logical.  When I filed their marriage certificate on Earth, I had your birth certificate changed.”

The small  apartment was quiet as Amelia processed what Gideon told her.  He was right in some ways.  Noah Shepard raised her, loved her, and cared for her.  His last actions had saved her life that night on Mindoir.  Nothing could, or would, change that.  

“I think my father is part of Cerberus.”  Her admission could barely be heard in the room.  “I think they’ve known since Akuze.”

Her words hung between them until Gideon seemed to slump forward.  “It would make sense,” he muttered.  “I mean, Cerberus didn’t exist yet, not really, but what little we know of the founding members?  Hannah would do her best to get as far away as possible, especially if she wanted to keep you safe from the father.”

“I don’t know who he is.  I’m not sure I want to.”

“You have to make that call kiddo.  Not me.  But I’ll support you either way.” 

“I’m going to keep digging through records.  See what I can find.  If there’s a common thread.”

Gideon reached across the table, placing a hand over hers a squeezing gently.  He knew the obstinate tone of voice well.  Nothing he did or said now would deter her.  Instead he chose to distract, filling her in on little stories and missions for the remainder of his allotted time.  He gave her a brief, tight hug before leaving Amelia alone once more.

True to her word, Amelia appeared before the Admiralty board later that day, not quite contrite, but managing to deflect most of their anger at her tricks the day before.  She even managed to deflect questions as to how she had hacked the V.I. system.  Her penance, it appeared, was to be an even longer session with the defense council.  Nearly twelve hours in front of a stream of faceless questioners combined with the emotional meeting with Gideon had her nearing exhaustion, upgrades be damned.  

She collapsed gratefully onto the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.  Four hours later she woke as her stomach gave a painful twist, reminding her that her meals that day had been less than adequate.  Groggy but unfortunately too awake to fall back into bed, Amelia calmed the hunger pangs with multiple pasty ration bars.  Somewhat satisfied she stretched out on the couch and fished out her datapad, ignoring the early hour.

She flipped through the next set of documents with a sort of clinical detachment borne of early morning numbness.  There were pages up pages of her service records, medical history, and test results.  Her entire military career had seemingly been funneled through Cerberus.  Amelia was surprised, however, that there appeared to be no manipulation of her service, just after reports and summaries from nameless double agents.

Until her name was put forward to become a Spectre.

_ From: The Illusive Man _

_ To:  Recipient Unknown _

_ Re: Spectre Candidates _

_ Admiral, _

_ Your short list is woefully disappointing and short sighted.  None of those put forward will suit the our needs appropriately.  You will add Commander Amelia Shepard to the list.  Not only has she shown skill as a soldier, but has the type of sympathetic background we can build upon.  An assessment is being done currently at how easily we can recruit her as a Cerberus supporter.    Given her history, we should have an edge.  The first human Spectre’s loyalty should lay with her species before the council.   _

_ Your support in this matter will be rewarded, _

_ TIM _

 

_ From: The Illusive Man _

_ To: Recipient Unknown _

_ Re: Spectre Shepard _

_ Admiral, _

_ I was pleased to hear that Shepard has been sworn in as humanity’s first Spectre.  I believe you’ve made a wise decision.  I’ve forwarded dossiers of support staff that could be used in various appointments around our newest Spectre.  I would also appreciate it if she could handle a few missions for the organization as a preliminary test. _

_ TIM _

 

Amelia skimmed the mission and personnel briefings.  The names were only vaguely familiar, only one had served on the Normandy.  She hadn’t made it to an escape pod when the SR-1 crashed.  The missions were similar, almost inconsequential, but always involved morally grey choices that needed to be made, usually tied to how humanity or the Alliance dealt with alien races.

The reports after the Reaper attacks had been more detailed.  There had been dissatisfaction in the way she handled the threat.  Amelia had chosen to save the council.  Some in Cerberus saw it as proof she wasn’t as malleable as they thought, others thought it gave them the upper hand .  The Illusive Man was surprisingly quiet on the manner at first, though he seemed to have a hand in her shore leave being rescinded early.  It wasn’t until her untimely death that things got peculiar.

 

_ From: The Illusive Man _

_ To: Benjamin Snyder, Miranda Lawson _

_ Re: Body Recovery _

_ I’ve read both of your reports on the prospects of retrieving Commander Shepard’s body, cost analysis and the rest. _

_ Perhaps I hadn’t made myself clear.  You will recover the body, regardless of cost and personnel expenditure.  We will not let her fall into the hands of the Shadow Broker. _

_ Miss Lawson, I expect the Lazarus cell to be up and running within the month.  I have begun funding and retrieved Dr. Wilson to begin preliminary work on the project.  _

_ Mr. Snyder, if you and your men cannot complete the job as hired, we will terminate all business contacts with you.  You’re well aware of what that entails. _

_ Do not disappoint me. _

_ The Illusive Man _

 

_ From: The Illusive Man _

_ To: Miranda Lawson _

_ Re: Liara T’Soni _

_ It is unfortunate we must accept the asari’s help, though I do see the benefits.  If she fails our organization has no direct ties to the maniacal behaviors of a grieving alien.  I would prefer if you begin instituting our backup plan as well.  I have doubt the agent she has chosen to put her faith in has defected like he said. Continuing monitoring the situation and brief me as needed. _

_ The Illusive Man   _

 

_ From: The Illusive Man _

_ To: Miranda Lawson _

_ Re: Success _

_ Congratulations on a well completed mission Miss Lawson.  I will be at the station shortly to discuss future needs of the Lazarus project with you and Dr. Wilson.  Continue monitoring Miss T’Soni.  I believe her ire has been sufficiently redirected to the Shadow Broker, but we may continue to encourage that line of thought.   _

_ The Illusive Man _

 

The quiet chimes of her door pulled Amelia from the files in front of her.  A quick glance around and realized she had spent the early morning hours absorbed in reading.  She quickly tossed the pad aside, popping up as Vega let himself in.

A smirk ticked up the corner of his mouth.  “Long night Commander?”

“You know it soldier.  You just missed the crowds of revelers.”

“Good thing I come bearing gifts today then huh?”  He held out the small bag, laughing as she popped off the couch, snatching the bakery bag from him.  

She let out a nearly indecent moan as the scent of still warm croissants and cheese wafted from the bag.  “Vega I’d say you’re good people but that is a very serious understatement.”  Amelia delighted as his cheeks reddened slightly.  

“Eat the sandwich Commander.  We gotta be in the main courtroom in 30.”

“Aye aye sir.”  She snapped up a smart salute, breakfast sandwich still tight between fingers before heading towards her bedroom.  

It was surprisingly fun egging the younger man on.  She refused to think about what the playful side he seemed to bring out in her meant.  It could wait until after, but after what, she had no clue.  

It certainly wasn’t after more weeks of intensive questioning that gave way to medical tests.  The Alliance wanted to understand her cybernetics better.  Her days were spent being grilled and the weekends were reluctantly handed over towards doctors wanting to push the boundaries of her body until she snarled and refused.  Eventually someone higher up than even those questioning her, stepped in to end the countless tests.

A small part of her wondered if it was The Illusive Man working through his nameless admiral.

A small part of her was thankful to the man if it was. 

Amelia spent a few days catching up on the sleep she so desperately needed before evening considering picking up the datapad again.  Vega had only just left her apartments, sucked into the biotiball playoffs as much as she was.  Surprisingly content she pulled a chair towards the windows, propping her feet up on the ledge as she accessed the first of multiple video files.  

The surprisingly familiar med bay of Lazarus station sprang to life on her screen.  Miranda and The Illusive Man stood on either side of a pod, peering down through the lid.  His hands rested lightly on the surface.  A holographic display of Amelia seemed to spin in the center of the room, lines of text scrolling along the side so fast she couldn’t read it.  

“As you can see, the body is highly degraded due to its entry into Alchera’s atmosphere.  The sub freezing temperatures were a hinderance as well, though initial scans do show the cold left DNA viable.  We could proceed with a clone in a matter of months.”

“No.  It has to be Shepard.  I don’t care how slim the chances are.  Humanity will need the real Commander Shepard, not a clone.”

Amelia watched the skin around Miranda’s lips tighten, the only sign of displeasure the woman would show to her boss.  “I will have Dr. Wilson begin the processes.”

“Good.  We need to discuss security.  The Shadow Broker won’t be pleased we got away with his prized possession.”

“I have our contacts looking into the buyer now.”  Miranda stepped away from the pod, flicking her eyes between The Illusive Man and it.  “I’ll go collect Snyder and we can meet in my office to discuss security.”

He gave a dismissive nod, attention still riveted on the pod.  Miranda turned on heel, leaving him alone in the medical bay.  The room was silent, save for his fingers tapping against the lid in a slow rhythm.  With a shake of the head he turned to face the holo.  His head tilted slightly as he stepped closer.

“Oh Amelia,” he seemed to sigh out.  “So like your mother.”

The words were spoken so quietly the recorder barely caught it.  The video flicked to black, leaving the screen empty.

Amelia stared at the datapad as she processed the video she just watched.  The words could be an innocent throw away, but she knew better.  It all added up.  A father high enough up in Cerberus to trip classified clearance, the attention and manipulation of her career.  The oddly long leash Cerberus afforded her, even as they manipulated her.

The Illusive Man was her father.   

Numb, she let the datapad drop to the table beside her.  Unseeing eyes stared out over the cityscape before her.  What she truly knew of The Illusive Man was limited, even the Shadow Broker’s files on the man were surprisingly slim.  Amelia could tell you the type of suit he wore and drink of choice, but very little about the man behind the mask.

A quiet ding from her pad pulled Amelia from the thoughts racing through her mind.  Shaking, she picked it up, the screen quickly switching from a random novel to a messaging program she had used only once before.

_ S.B.- Shepard?  Glyph informed me you had watched the first video. _

_ A.S.- Please tell me I’m imagining this? _

_ S.B.- I truly wish that were the case. _

_ A.S.- So you think he’s my father?  Sperm donor, whatever. _

_ S.B.- It is the conclusion I reached given the evidence put before us. _

_ A.S.- I think I’m going to be sick. _

_ S.B.- I wish I could say it changes nothing, but I think we both know that’s not the truth.  Just remember who raised you, who gave their life for you back on Mindoir. _

_ S.B.- Amelia? _

_ S.B.- Please don’t make me hack your surveillance feed. _

_ A.S.- I’m here.  I….just...Can you find more about him?  Who he was before?   _

_ S.B.- I’ve already been looking into that.  I’ll have the files downloaded onto your datapad by morning.   _

_ A.S.- Thanks Liara.   _

_ S.B.- Anything you need Shepard.  Now please, try and get some sleep.   _

_ A.S.- I think that’s out of the question now, but I’ll try.   _

 

Hours later Amelia sat still staring out the window as the rising sun peeked over buildings.  Even the quiet chimes of the door couldn’t pull her from the spiraling thoughts running through her head.  A heavy hand finally settled on her shoulder, giving a small shake.  Glassy eyed she looked up, surprised it wasn’t Vega, but Anderson at her back.

“You look like shit Shepard.”

A humorless laugh slipped from her.  “Thank you sir.”  

“A little bird told me you were up all night.  Just staring out the window.”  

“I like the view, what can I say?”  The words sounded hollow, even to her ears.

“You like sleep more.  I drug your ass out of your bunk more times than I can count during boot camp.”  Anderson paused long enough to drag over his own chair.  “What’s going on Amelia?”

Unable to harness her usual sarcasm, she let out a quiet sigh and decided to deflect.  “You have people watching me round the clock.  I’m sure there’s nothing going on in my life that you or Hackett don’t get a report on.”

A deep sigh and tick of the eyebrow was his only response.  It was a familiar routine for the two of them.  David had spent most evenings sitting next to a silent, scared sixteen year old on the cruiser back from Mindoir.  Amelia knew she’d break before he did and relented.

“I don’t need a psych eval David.  I’m fine, just...maybe have a little cabin fever.  Nothing a bottle of bourbon wouldn’t fix.”

“It’s not even 0900 Amelia.”

“Well I didn’t say right this minute.”  She stretched and attempted to shake off the fog that had settled around her before standing.  “I’m fine David.  Really.”

He stood and pulled her into a brief, tight hug.  “I’m dropping it for now, but whatever it is, don’t let it eat at you.”  David paused, and frowned slightly.  “I think you need another visit with Gideon.  Unrecorded this time.”

Gratitude welled up and Amelia could do nothing but nod in thanks.  Leaving the admiral in her living room, she dashed to the bathroom, a quick shower letting her pull herself together before facing the admiralty boards.    

What she hadn’t expected was the quiet sound of voices from her apartment slash cell later that evening.  A ghost of a smile kept crossing Vega’s face as he walked her back to the rooms, keeping up a steady stream of chatter to distract her.  Amelia was slightly annoyed that his tactics worked when the doors swished open, letting the quiet voices and delicious smells waft out.

Curious, she found David and Gideon, cooking dinner in her kitchen.  An bottle of bourbon and three glasses sat at the kitchen table.  For the second time that day Amelia fought back tears.  The scene before her, minus the alcohol, had played out repeatedly her first few months back on Earth.  The two men had served together early in their Alliance careers and Gideon had welcomed his old friend into his home whenever David was planetside.  

The two men looked up at she cleared her throat.  “I wasn’t aware we were having a get together.  It’s been ages.”  She turned her gaze to Gideon.  “And how are you here so fast?  Vancouver and New Mexico are nowhere near each other.”

Her uncle plastered on his best client face.  “I didn’t tell you?  We set up a branch in Vancouver about four months ago.  I was in the area consulting.”

“Pull the other one.”  Amelia snagged a piece of raw pepper, dodging the hands that smacked after her.  “What are you two doing?”

David motioned towards the cameras.  “Until midnight tonight, all recording devices in your apartments have been turned off on the caveat an admiral be present the entire time.”

“How many strings did you pull to get that one approved?”  Not completely trusting, she glanced over at Gideon, relieved to see the now familiar cufflinks still attached to his shirt.  

“Not as many as you’d think.  You have champions in the Alliance Amelia.  Don’t forget that.”

A quiet voice in the back of her head wondered if she had champions or if her  _ father _ was pulling on his tangled web of informants.  Amelia ruthlessly ignored the voice, instead letting herself get drawn into the familiar bickering of the two older men.  

It wasn’t until dinner was long eaten and the bottle of bourbon half gone that David excused himself back to the kitchen.  Ignoring the dishwasher, he began washing pots and pans by hand, the noise of water and clanking pans enough to cover a quiet conversation.  It was the closest he could give the two to privacy, she realized quickly.

“You went looking.”  Gideon’s voice was quiet and surprisingly non judgmental.

“I’m not sure looking is the right word so much as a bomb was dropped in my lap unexpectedly,” she admitted.

“Do you want to tell me?”

She nervously bit at her lip, a habit she had broken herself of years ago.  “Saying it out loud kind of makes it real.”

“That bad huh kiddo?”

“The worst.”  Amelia took a deep breath, letting the words come out on a rushed sentence.  “I’m pretty sure the Illusive Man is my father.”

The two stared at each other for a moment before Gideon swept her into a bear hug.  His cheek pressed against the crown of her head.  “His genetics may have contributed to your birth, but Noah Shepard is your father.”

“I know,” she murmured against the fabric of his shit.  “It’s just a lot to take in.  And I don’t know whether to trust if my career has been because I’ve earned it or because he’s manipulated it.”

He let her go, settling both hands on her shoulder, ducking until they were eye level.  “You’ve earned your career.  He wasn’t on Akuze or Ilos or any of the hundreds of missions you’ve run.  He’s not standing beside you as you go toe to toe with the admiralty board.  That’s all you.”

“You have to say that.”  Humor at their old game, one they started when she first came to live with him, and hint that she was done with the conversation.

“You know I don’t.”  Gideon pulled her forward and brushed a kiss against her forehead.  “Love you Mia girl.”

“Love you too.” 

She slept better that night, after David and Gideon left.  There was no rush to read the information Liara sent or or watch the remaining videos.  Gideon had been right.  Noah was her father, though it didn’t prevent her from wanting to know more about The Illusive Man.  He had gone through her history, it was only fair she did the same.

Amelia gave herself a week.  It wasn’t a lot of time, but the most she could afford.  The admiralty board seemed to be slowly drawing to a close on their questioning.  Meetings now lasted half a day as opposed to well into the evening.  Vega’s guard duty was less about escorting her to and from meetings and more about keeping her company.  Their afternoons had taken on a comfortable routine of a quick lunch, a few hours at the gym, and the late afternoon into evening catching her up on things she had missed in the two and a half years she had been gone or with Cerberus.  She knew better than to relax completely though.

The Reapers were still out there.  As were the Collectors.  

And now she had to consider what The Illusive Man had planned as well.

“Do you ever relax Commander?”

Vega’s humor tinged question pulled Amelia from her darker thoughts.  “I took a two year nap if you don’t remember.”

“I don’t think being dead counts.” 

“Relaxing isn’t something I’ve really had time for James.  Yeah a night here, an afternoon there but it’s hard to justify a weeks shore leave while the Reaper or Collectors loom over us.”  She huffed out a quick breath of laughter.  “Plus, like you said I kinda died the last time I was supposed to be taking a break.”

“I’ll give you that one Lola.”

“Lola?”

James’s face reddened a bit.  “I’ll explain another time.”

She reached across the couch to poke at his shoulder.  “I’m holding you to that marine.”

His hand settled over hers briefly, a gentle squeeze before he let go.  “Once they’re done, you’re out of here and I’m back to a colony.  Doubt our paths will cross much after this.”  

“Doesn’t have to be like that.”  The words came out quiet, almost gentle.  

His jaw clenched slightly.  “You’re wrong.  You’re Commander Shepard.  I’m lucky Anderson gave me a second chance and promoted me.  After this is done, you’ll go back to being a Spectre and go back to doing what I do best.  Being a soldier on the front lines.”  

“You know,” she began quietly, “up until a few years ago that’s all I was.  Someone took a hell of a chance on a marine with a shitty attitude.  You’re worth more than you give yourself credit for James.”  She stood and stretched, patting his shoulder twice.  “It’s Friday night.  Don’t worry about coming in this weekend.  One of us should have fun not cooped up in this building.”

“But-”  He came off the couch behind her.  Amelia turned, giving him an easy smile.  She hadn’t taken the rejection personally and needed him to know that. 

“No buts.  Call a few friends, go out.  Have a good weekend.  I’ll be here Monday.  I promise.”

“Alright.  Have a good night Lola.”

“Again with the Lola!” she called as he walked towards the door.

“It fits.”

“Someone save me from cocky marines,” she murmured to herself on a sigh.

Amelia spent her weekend alternating between reading as much as she could on Liara’s datapad and aimlessly drifting through her apartment.  The more she read, the more she was certain.  The Illusive Man, or Jack Harper, was her biological father.  Though his association with the Alliance was sketchy at best, there were records showing he had a classified mission that lined up timewise with her mother’s.  

It made sense, then, why her mother would hide the relationship.  Even then, before the First Contact War, Jack Harper had a reputation for being equal parts ruthless and charismatic.  Had he known Hannah had left their mission pregnant, there’s no telling what he may have done.  There was a very good chance Noah Shepard had saved Hannah and Amelia’s lives on that transport thirty two years ago.

That was the last thought that crossed her mind that night as she fell into a dreamless sleep, only to be jarred awake the next morning.  James stood outside her bedroom, pounding on the door.  “Commander?  Amelia?  You need to get up now.  There’s a situation.”

Years of training had her rolling out of bed, calling out an acknowledgement.  Less than fifteen minutes later she was ready to go, James by her side.    

“What’s going on?”  Amelia ignored the pit of dread that seemed to settle into her stomach.  

“No clue.  Defense committee said they needed to talk to you immediately.”  

The dread grew as she drew closer to the board room.  Anderson’s grim faced only cemented the facts.  She knew what no one was going to say.  The Reapers were here.  Lost within her head of plans and contingencies, she almost missed Kaidan walking from the room in front of her.  

There was a moment of shock, of betrayal, as they stared each other down.  Surprisingly, it was James, a quiet bulwark at her back that made Amelia feel like her feet were still on steady ground.  Her words to her former friend were polite, if a touch distant.  She only just heard Kaidan’s reluctant response to James’s question as she was ushered into the council room.

The next hours passed in a strange twist of time.  Hours passed in minutes, while minutes felt as if they stretched into eternity.  Chaos spread through the streets of Vancouver as she and Anderson fled through destroyed buildings, making their way to the Normandy.  They fought side by side again, a familiar rhythm borne from years on the front line together.  As the Normandy set down, he shoved her towards the ship, telling her he planned on staying.

Amelia stared him down for just a second.  “Keep Gideon safe?  Please?”

“Your Uncle is capable of taking care of himself Amelia.”

“David.  Please.”

He relented.  “I’m on it.  He and his teams began evaccing civilians almost immediately.  He’s been preparing for this as long as we have.  Now get your ass on the Normandy and get the hell out of here.”

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”  

The flight from Earth to Mars was a rush of preparations.  Years of training took over as she prepped equipment and guns, making the best of what limited supplies were on board the ship.  It was equal parts exhilarating and nerve wracking as she contemplated set foot on the red planet.  The thrill of being out of the brig only held in check by the knowledge of the Reapers.  

It was odd at first.  Amelia had settled into an easy rhythm with the crew she put together for Cerberus.  She missed having the keen eye of one of her snipers watching her back or the bulk of a krogan beside her.  Their fight to the archive doors was messy and brutal, but near the halfway mark she and Kaidan picked up their lost, but not forgotten, tandem fighting style.  Proving he was as good on the front lines as he boasted, Vega quick picked up on their style, matching it with his own.

It was comfortable, if unfamiliar, until Kaidan began questioning her about Cerberus again.  Tempers flared, Amelia tired of defending herself repeatedly to her former friend while James did his best to soothe the two riled marines.  It was a pattern that repeated.  They would fight as a team against Cerberus, then fight amongst each other during moments of quiet.  Their saving grace was the appearance of Liara.  Vega bristled when she ordered him back to the shuttle, until she pulled him away from the other two.

“I need you back at the shuttle James.”

“You need me here!”

Amelia sighed.  “No.  I need someone I can trust with me and someone I trust watching my six.  Liara I trust and she knows the archives.”   

James sucked in a breath.  “You saying you don’t trust the Major?”

“I’m saying he and I haven’t seen eye to eye in a while.  But you?  You I know.  You I trust, but I don’t know your fighting style yet.  We can’t afford mistakes and we can’t afford a rear attack.  Do you have my back James or not?”

“Yeah Lola.  I got it.”  He nodded at the doors leading farther into the archives.  “Stay safe in there.”

“I’ll do my best soldier.”  

Amelia ignored the curious looks from her two squadmates, instead checking weapons and heat sinks before hacking her way into the next set of doors.  She, Kaidan, and Liara fought their way across towards the archives.  The others let out cries of disbelief or incredulous words each time they passed the horrors that Cerberus left in their wake.  Amelia kept quiet, only one thought running through her mind repeatedly.   _ How could I come from such a monster?  _

The main room of the archives seemed empty, a cavernous room built around the sleek prothean device.  Amelia kept her distance, wary that even the glass couldn’t stop it if the beacon decided she needed another message.  Suddenly, the quiet click of Liara’s fingers on the keyboard were drowned out by an all too familiar voice.

“Shepard.”

Amelia whirled, hand frozen on her gun.  She heard the quiet click of Liara’s engaging as she came face to face, or hologram, with the Illusive Man.

It had been six months.

It hadn’t been enough.  Her mind whirled to catch up with what it saw as the hologram of her father being waxing poetic about the might of the protheans and his desire to harness their power, to control the robots currently destroying the worlds she held dear.

“I’ve seen what you think the peak of humanity is,” she finally interrupted.  “Humans are not husks.”

“They went willingly.  They want what we all do Amelia.  With the reapers on our side, humanity would never be looked down upon again.”

“And when we stop being humans?  When you replace most of us with reaper tech?  Then what?”

“You’re a human enhanced by bioengineering.  You have synthetic parts, just as my soldiers do.  Does that make you less human?”  

“Can’t say for sure, but I do know what you did to bring me back and what you’ve done to them are  _ not _ the same.”

“You were a tool, brought back for one specific purpose and you were almost successful.”

“Just one purpose?”  She had edged closer to the hologram and, for one fleeting moment, she saw it.  What she had inherited from the man before her.  Amelia Shepard was as hard headed and self assured as Jack Harper.  Neither would back down.  Neither would compromise.  

“You’re usefulness to me is done Amelia.”  

She heard the dismissal in his voice, but saw how he kept her pinned, his gaze assessing.  “You should’ve just cloned me.  Would’ve been cheaper.  Made disposal after the fact so much easier too,” she taunted, internally smug as he frowned at her.

“I had my reasons.”

“Oh I’m sure you did.  You’re not exactly known for your altruistic nature.”    

“Don’t get in my way Shepard.  You either stand beside me or in my way.  What will it be?”

“I won’t let you turn humanity into some twisted imitation of what we are.  We’re done here.”  With a disgusted shake of her head she glanced over her shoulder.  “Liara?”

Her friend nodded once, lowering her weapon and turning towards the keyboard once more.  

“Disappointing, but not unexpected.”

Amelia turned back towards the hologram, teeth bared.  “Guess I’m too much like my father.  He didn’t know when to back down either.”  Before he could react, she had the power cut to the device, a handy program she had been working on since before the Collector’s base.  

Ruthlessly, she pushed aside the anger roiling through her, focusing instead on Liara, and eventually the AI attempting to murder them.  A traitorous part of her brain whispered that Dr. Core was primarily focused on Liara and Kaidan, only taking pot shots at her occasionally.  It didn’t matter a few minutes later, the damaged robotic body hefted over her shoulder, James carrying an unconscious Kaidan back to the shuttle. 

As Joke and EDI wove their way through the system, dodging reapers as they went, that she had another moment to breathe.  Liara found her on Starboard observation, staring blankly out at the passing stars.

“Amelia?”

She sighed and squared her shoulders.  “How’s Kaidan?”

“Hanging in there.  I’m more worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine Liara.”

“I’m worried for you.  Was taunting him really necessary?”

Amelia smiled and knocked her shoulder into her friend lightly.  “Believe me, that was nothing compared to our arguments before.  Though maybe I understand those a bit better now.  I never understood what he wanted from me.  He knew my service record like that back of his hand, yet every time I made a decision that he didn’t agree with there was disappointment.”

“He was looking for pieces of himself in you.”

Amelia had known, that of all of her friends, Liara would understand the best.  Her relationship with Benezia something they two had discussed at length on the SR1.  “Yeah.  That’s what I’m thinking too.”

Her friend leaned against her slightly.  “So what do we do?”

“First we get Kaidan to the Citadel and I meet with the council.  After that?  We figure out how to defeat the reapers and Cerberus.”

“It won’t be easy my friend.”

“When has it ever been easy?  I’m going to need a team I trust.  Think you can put your contacts to work and locate our friends?”  She left the “if they’re alive” silent.  They were both already thinking it.

“Of course.”  Liara leaned her head against Amelia’s shoulder for a brief moment before sliding out of view.  

Reluctantly turned from the window, settling onto the floor, just to the right of where Samara would meditate.  Amelia let out a deep breath and settled into her own meditation pose.  She would need to have a clear head when they arrived at the Citadel.  

It wasn’t only her well being that sat on her shoulders, or her teams.  The galaxy rested there.  The Reapers wanted it.  Her father wanted it.

They would have to kill her to take it.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my awesome hand holding, pom pom waving friends who offered lots of encouragement and the lovely bloomingcnidarians who created such amazing art to go along with this story.


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